INSCAPE

2015 – 2016

Editorial Staff

Mr. Alexander Davidson – Moderator

Calvin Adam

Francisco Andreu

Teddy Apap

Ezekiel Bowker

Luke Bowker

Anthony Campana

Paul Cataldi

Jack Condit

Ryan Cullen

Maxim Denomme

Joseph Dery

Michael Donovan*

John Downey*

Joshua Duffy

Benjamin Gaynier

Brendan Hogan

John Hurley

John Jeannotte

Justice Keech

Ian Kennedy

Thomas Lennon*

Matthew Lujan

Dylan Manning

Xavier McCormick*

Brendan Neary

Joshua Piepszowski*

Jack Ploucha

Karl Rimelspach

A.J. Rowe

Casey Spagnuolo

Noah Zielinski

* indicates a Senior Team Leader

Special Thanks

Mr. Dave Carapellotti

Mr. John Simmons

The students and staff of U of D Jesuit,

without whom this publication would not be possible

literary magazine

Watercolor, Matt Lujan* 1

There Was a Young Boy, Paul Cataldi 1

The Lost Summer, Maxime Denomme 2

Leland Michigan, Lucca Paletta* 2

Untitled, Daniel Chekal* 3

4E, Teddy Apap 3

Nerves, Matt Lujan 4

The Good Witch, Matt Lujan 4

Romanticism Poem, John O’Connell 5

Untitled, Daniel Guething* 6

When You Can Still Remember Dreaming, Matt Lujan 7

Transformation Watercolor, Christian Peters* 8

Macro Lime, Brendan Roarty* 8

The First Day of Foreign Affairs, Michael Donovan 9

Untitled, Jack Condit* 11

Untitled, Luke Bowker 11

Memories, Anthony Campana 12

Untitled, Jack Condit 12

Such Truth, Nicholas Pez 13

Untitled, Jack Condit* 13

Waterfall in Yelowstone, Ian Wilson* 14

Jotting, Matt Lujan 15

Serenity, Andrew Bukowinski 17

Untitled, Alek Weirmiller* 17

Gaslight, Matt Lujan* 18

Those Little Lights, Daniel Toal 18

Composite, Nicholas Pez* 19

Realism Poem, John O’Connell 20

Fall, Paul Cataldi* 21

The Casket's Death, Frankie Andreu 21

Beauty in the Struggle, Gordon Russ 22

Untitled, Adam Abdullah* 23

Mind, Charlie Klinger 23

Pencil, Matt Lujan* 24

An Unknown Soldier, Daniel Scanlan 24

This I Believe, Ryan Cullen 25

Untitled, Evan Sale* 26

Untitled, Evan Sale* 26

The Unicorn, Noah Zelinski 27

Tiger, Nolan Bailey* 28

Bigger Than Basketball, Matt Burr and Amir Mashni 29

Untitled, Joseph Dery* 31

Untitled, Joseph Dery* 31

A child said what is life, Christopher Hill 32

Untitled, Anonymous 33

I Say to You, Daniel Toal 33

Woods, Nicholas Pez* 34

A City, Colin Hayes 35

Untitled, Kyle Delaney* 35

Inscape Poem, Dylan Manning 36

Pond (Backyard) Season, Tom Lennon 36

Modernism Poem, John O’Connell 37

Drama, Brent Wilkerson* 37

The Seed, Billy Zimmer 38

Macro Pomegranate, Jacob Cafeo* 38

Building Blocks, Konstantin Olsen* 39

Harmony, Ben Godfrey 39

I hear U of D singing, Bishara Randolph 40

Detroit is Paradise, Cedric Mutebi* 40

Goo, Kyle Delaney* 41

Overthinking, Ryan Dolsen 41

There's Beauty in the Struggle, Luciano Marcon 42

The Reliable Friends, Neil Jain 43

Estate, Nicholas Pez* 44

The Courtyard, Nicholas Pez* 44

Untitled, Quintin Banks 45

Untitled, Jonathan Lesinski* 46

Maui Coast, Ian Wilson* 46

Emmett Till Eternity, Wes Matthews 47

MLK, Brent Wilkerson* 48

Forget, Anonymous 49

Maui Coastline, Ian Wilson* 49

I Can't Disclose This, Matt Lujan 50

Myself, Andrew Bukowinski 50

Raging Man, Ryan Reid 51

Untitled, Jonathan Lesinski* 51

The Journal of Devin Malone, Merrick Means 52

NYC Skyline, Ian Wilson* 52

I Wanna Get Better, Christopher Wilson 53

Summer, Calvin Adam 57

Untitled, Calvin Adam* 57

Untitled, Keagan Flynn 58

*indicates artwork

1

Watercolor, Matthew Lujan

There Was a Young Boy

Paul Cataldi

There was a young boy who entered a building each day,

And with each passing day he and the building became one,

With each experience he had, another brick of foundation was

laid,

And this foundation would remain with him for life.

The footsteps in the hallway became a part of him,

And the black on the whiteboards,

And the hello’s and the hey’s,

And the shirts and ties,

And the lanyards everyday,

The importance of others became a part of him,

And the care for our city

And the daily reflections,

And the God before all,

And the AMDG,

Each of these things changed the young boy.

And each of these things will remain with him,

And as a young man he will go forth.

2

The Lost Summer

Maxim Denomme

Summer days, summer haze.

The sun will rise tomorrow and with such woe

Plants will smile with much style.

Roads will glow even for a foe.

Boats will sail making some become pale.

Summer lasts forever but school is not that clever

Making students return to class, many looking out the window

glass.

Homework starts to pile and papers return to their files.

Looking to summers past, realizing they did not last.

Summer does not last forever in fact it is for never.

Leland, Michigan, Lucca Paletta

3

Untitled, Daniel Chekal

4E

Teddy Apap

It started with a group of outlaws. A band of misfit toys.

A group of unappreciated men expected to lose.

A homeroom with a dream.

A team with nothing but heart and the desire to be champions.

A homeroom turned what was a dream into a goal.

The goal became realistic and turned into a trophy.

The team that was slept on by all came to be feared by many.

Sacrifices made for the greater good of a brotherhood.

Nothing compares to the football intermural champions, 4E.

4

Nerves

Matt Lujan

She handed me my jacket

That was wrapped around her shoulders

And hugged me so warmly

I only wanted to hold her

Walking up the steps

We said our goodbyes

With a smile on her face

And a twinkle in my eye

If I had known

That was the last goodbye

I would've told her then

And waited for her reply

But I didn't

And I wonder if it was for the better

The Good Witch

Matt Lujan

She was a dork

In the best of ways

The way her eyes lit up

Talking about broadway plays

And her beautiful bouts

Of being awkward and shy

The way she'd dance in the rain

And look to the sky

These little things

Were what caught my heart

Her light and joy

Were like my counterpart

Her innocent laugh

Scared away the dark

And, if only for a moment

I had received a brand new start

5

Romanticism Poem

John O’Connell

It was such a strange occurrence

I was simply on the path into town

When I came upon a small cave

Buried deep in the forest, isolated

My curiosity was overwhelming

And I haggled over whether to go in

My fear was very strong

Although my interest was stronger

As soon as I walked in I felt rather strange

There was a feeling about this place

That made me want to leave

But at the same time pushed me further

I reached a large clearing

And in it was a tall, very skinny man

I called out to him asking who he was

He said not a word

With one swift movement he brushed past me and was gone

I saw it as very strange and ran to the exit

But something had blocked the mouth of the cave

Sitting in the pitch black, I knew then that I was dead

6

Untitled, Daniel Guething

7

When You Can Still Remember Dreaming

Matt Lujan

I'm wasting time

Staring at the snow

I should be studying

Not lying in woe

I just take up space

There's nowhere to go

Someone is rapping

At the door in my head

Shut up! Stop your tapping!

I thought you were dead

No, he runs freely to and fro

At least he has somewhere to go

Isn't it funny?

How all I have are dreams

And a safe fund of money

A list of careers mainstream

At least I can play the audio

That takes me where I'd like to go

If I could write

And live off my words

I'd give these characters sight

And let them fly like birds

But that feeling I may never know

Because there's nowhere to go

A memory is haunting me

Batting its eyes

Letting me see

What I surmise can never be

Why should I go with the flow?

My own path is where I'd like to go

But I will keep my hope

Plant it in my heart

Keep my dream in scope And refuse to fall apart

Though they will never tell me so

The path in my dream is the one in which I will go

8

Transformation Watercolor, Christian Peters

Macro Lime, Brendan Roarty

9

First Day of Foreign Affairs

Michael Donovan

The idea of forming a band started out as a joke,

something we threw around at the lunch table or between

classes. Our music tastes, playing styles, and personalities

seemed far too different to bring together. Gradually, though,

the idea started to gain traction. My classmate Pete began

sending me riffs and melodies, and we found a drummer in my

buddy John. John also had a grimy basement, perfect for

rehearsing. We had no plan, no experience, and no sense of our

own musical abilities when we formed Foreign Affairs, but we

had enough pent up energy and blind ambition to bring the idea

to life.

When we first played together, a loud, discordant, and

brutally raw sound ripped through the basement. Still wearing

our shirts and ties from the school day, we hacked away at our

instruments aimlessly. Our sonic slurry released all of the anger

and stress that we built up throughout the day in a gloriously

vicious fashion, evaporating all thoughts of essay deadlines and

Physics labs. The harsh, gripping tones of distorted guitar and

poorly timed drums satisfied me to an extent, but they lacked

the refinement and intangible features that really give a song

life.

I wanted to play the music that defined my experience

at home, the kind that sparked long family disputes about how

many bands Big Star influenced or whether it was my sister or

my dad who first discovered Yeasayer. The right music could

make the sibling with the iPod more important than the driver

on a road trip. It could set the tone at a family dinner. My dad

and I lived for nights at cramped Detroit venues like The

Shelter or St. Andrews Hall, places that reeked of sweat, smoke

and beer, because unexpected opening bands like Hey Rosetta!

and Alvvays proved that nothing could match an innovative live

show. I spent most of my down time practicing guitar and

devouring records through my oversized headphones, exploring

the mysterious emotional intricacies of music. For many great

records, I found the techniques simple and easy to learn, but I

could never pin down the intangibles that change a riff into an

emotion.

Foreign Affairs’ first jam drowned in its own energy. The

instruments battled more than they worked together, creating a

muddy sound. We needed to find “the pocket,” a kind of

10

musical nirvana when a group of individual players transforms

into a band. I suggested that we do a cover song to improve

our chemistry. That way, we could better understand how to

work together without having to deal with the limitations of our

own songs. Pete answered with a surprisingly bitter response.

He had a strong creative streak and hated the idea of tying

himself to another group’s music. John, on the other hand,

jumped on the idea, immediately suggesting five or six songs

from his favorite jam bands. I had created a gridlock.

To lift the tension, I tapped the record button on my

phone and slid into the opening riff of “Do I Wanna Know” by

the Arctic Monkeys. John, caught off guard, fumbled for his

sticks and started to lay down a simple drumbeat. After

studying my hands for a few seconds, Pete came in on rhythm

guitar. John soaked in the instantly recognizable hook, and Pete

stretched his creative muscles with some improvisation. Our

cover, thunderous and awkward, faintly captured the raw vigor

of the original recording. It had a trace of feeling hidden in a

deafening wall of sound. I was optimistic though. Like the initial

static when a needle hits a record, our course sound had the

potential to develop into something that I could blast through

my headphones every night. Granted, we were still pretty far

from the mythical pocket, but I was ready to butcher a

thousand more great songs in John’s musty basement to get

there.

11

Untitled, Jack Condit

Untitled

Luke Bowker

A large community of believers is the simplest way to put it. Every Sunday we get a new breath of fresh air full of optimism and potential. Every Sunday we get the same lesson, a lesson that has been taught repeatedly. We often ignore this lesson in order to satisfy our hopes and desires. Early morning optimism to late night despair

has been a part of my Sunday routine for seventeen years. However,

the environment this community has created has produced worthy role models for me to admire. For over eighty years my role models have given their hearts, bodies, and minds to the community, mentoring young believers and also supporting older, more experienced members. Our community has given millions of dollars, countless hours of support and our overwhelming voices all for one thing, a Super Bowl. Although the most publicized event in the world, as a

Detroit Lions fan I know nothing about it. I believe the term “Detroit Lions” comes from the Latin root meaning “false hope”. Although I may not have a leadership role in the community, I cherish my position as an avid supporter. I wouldn't want to be part of any other

NFL community because if there is one thing this community has taught me, it is to be hopeful in all situations. The Lions community is a microcosm of the city of Detroit itself. While outsiders may see us as

an irreparable city, we know it's not if we will come back, but when. Endless hope is only useful if one morphs that hope into action, and this is the most important lesson I have learned from this enduring community.

12

Memories

Anthony Campana

High school memories remaining in the past,

Time moving on, going by really fast.

New times await us, as well as new people,

The memories we'll make there, will sure not be the same.

We've had some fun times, as well as some not,

Laughing in classrooms, and intramural games.

Tests that we've taken, and drama we saw,

Friends that we’ve made, and emotions we've caused.

All of these things will remain in my mind,

and I’ll think about them in times of trouble,

So goodbye senior year and welcome to college,

The memories I keep will remembered forever.

Untitled, Jack Condit

13

Such Truth Nicholas Pez

I am a constant reminder of your lost hours. As you approach me,

you get the feeling that time speeds up. All the happenings

become memories – little fading stars in the eternal sky. It is a

relatable feeling. The quiet sets in. You reflect as if reflection was

the only way out, questioning why it is the way it is, yet you forget

this is not the first time. I can come back before you know it.

Am I the one that moves through space? Or is it you through time?

It’s funny how some say I am the beginning while others say I am

the end. Nothing can stop me or start me, since I am nothing but a

concept created by you. Please, I’ll come back, I promise. Do not

despise me for existing, I only do my job. Maybe someday you will

understand. Perhaps that is what I am here for.

I am, indeed, a product of your imagination, your beliefs, and your

hopes. But regardless of what you make of me, is it not beautiful?

That moment of fresh awareness. The new frontier of your life. The

embrace of reality.

The reconciliation with truth.

I can be that opportunity.

My name is Sunday.

Untitled, Jack Condit

14

Waterfall in Yellowstone, Ian Wilson

15

Jotting

Matt Lujan

Don't get me wrong

She was beautiful

But I've been taught

That art isn't art because it’s beautiful

Art makes you feel something

It’s supposed to touch you

Disturb some piece of you

Art isn't art because it’s beautiful

And boy did she make me feel something

Inspired, yet dumbfounded

Remarkable, yet insignificant

Art isn't art because it’s beautiful

Scared, yet courageous

Pure but warped

Courageous, yet meek

Art isn't art because it’s beautiful

I was shown

Beauty in nature

And the greens of the trees

Art isn't art because it’s beautiful

I was taught

What faith is supposed to be

And how light can comfort instead of blind

Art isn't art because it’s beautiful

16

I laughed

When I rediscovered

My childhood

Art isn't art because it’s beautiful

I cried

When she compared

Her loneliness to mine

Art isn't art because it’s beautiful

I was afraid

That she had lost her way

But it wasn't my place to say

Art isn't art because it’s beautiful

And I rejoiced

When I learned how important

Friendship is before love

Art isn't art because it's beautiful

I now see

Why he had us meet

So that one lonely soul

Could encounter another experiencing loneliness

17

Serenity Andrew Bukowinski

I find myself in a dark room.

Nothing visible and nobody around.

The only noise I can hear is the sound of complete darkness.

I’m left with only my thoughts.

Many different things are running through my head.

The thought of life, and what I will be doing with mine.

The thought of how I can shape my whole life with every choice I

make.

Sometimes I wonder who is most important to me.

I wonder who is changing, and in the future find I will leave them

behind with my memories.

Out of the closest people I know who will waste my time and who will

forever be remembered.

I remind myself to keep watch, but not let the thought of betrayal run

around my mind.

I remind myself so live life and to be happy every moment of every

day.

Because one day I will reminisce about my early life and realize those

were my fondest memories.

My life that I will only live once.

Every second that can not be experienced again.

My mission is to outlive my whole time being alive on this

unexplainable world that exists.

Untitled, Alek Weiermiller

18

Gaslight, Matthew Lujan

Those Little Lights

Daniel Toal

Every night we see the stars,

And maybe look for that one or two Dippers.

But day after day,

The value of the heavens grows to less and less,

And then less and less still.

Our universe is miraculous,

And the sky is nothing but the start.

Do not take this fact for granted.

The next time you look upwards at night,

Imagine the stars only shone once your life.

So now think of those little lights,

And recognize the value they hold.

19

Composite, Nicholas Pez

20

Realism Poem

John O’Connell

Mr. Smith was a man of high quality,

For the majority of his long lifetime.

He grew up a nice, humble boy,

And became a man of honor.

Everything had gone right for old Smith,

He was one that people would look up to.

When he was just twenty years old,

He married the most beautiful girl in town.

Mr. Smith had a successful company,

And developed a large, happy family.

Yes, old Smith was once a great man,

With more than most men could ask for.

But what has become of him now,

That he is old and grey?

Well, as Mr. Smith grew older,

Everything around him began to dissolve.

It was a long and slow process,

Which started with his two sons going off to college.

Once Mr. Smith’s boys graduated,

They started families of their own and he rarely saw

them.

It continued with old Smith’s company going out of business,

Which rendered him bankrupt with nearly no money.

The unfortunate events did not stop there,

As his wife was killed in a train accident a year later.

Now, old Smith sits alone in his hut he calls a house,

And drinks to his heart’s content.

Nobody has seen him outside in quite a while,

Mr. Smith is completely alone.

21

Fall, Paul Cataldi

The Casket’s Death

Frankie Andreu

In the woods the casket looms

Peaceful with nothing of disturbance

Above many grow

Growing from the dawn of death.

Over the years there is buildup

In which more may come

Goods are released from inside

May nurture the life of many more.

Above life is born

Arising from the buildup

Sprouting from the death of the casket

The casket in the woods.

22

Beauty in the Struggle

Gordon Russ

Virtuous living, it’s worthless and petty

Hurts from the beginning but we work toward forgetting

Every single little thing is worthy of blessing

Stressing over letting any person regret me

Worsen the jesting, in a hearse with my personal memories

Serving to send me spurts of any other merciless ending

First I’m pretending then I merge into learning the pending

Curse of the plenty words that are then urged to repenting

Search for all depending purpose in a heard of suggesting

The Earth is unrelenting and deserving of plenty

Many cannot fathom nature surely pretending

Words cannot return they simply yearn for expressing

Meek and humble for all of those who run through the slums

People mumble, hum another supple mutter at lunch

Simply undone as I lurk in hopes for someone to run

Jumping the gun for any circumstance as gummy as mud

Runny and scummy as blood running soul pumping the funds

Uninterested buddies try to sum up what’s good

I like to take my time although the money is love

Crummy, just shove the loveliness right under the rug

Maybe they won’t notice that I’ve just given up

Not completely though, but it’s still bumpy and rough

If you look close enough there is some beauty in the struggle Usually people come through and then use the ones who love you

There are still a few of some who tumble down the stump-hill

In hope a feud with trouble is unusual and subtle

23

Untitled, Adam Abdullah

Mind

Charlie Klingler

Great adventures lasting years but never even taken,

Across mountain ranges to places afar,

Fighting great battles that seem that their faking,

But when you wake up you don’t seem too alarmed.

Exploring the jungles of far unknown places,

Sailing the waters to a region who’s dull,

Going to lands where there are new faces,

All of this inside of one single skull.

24

Pencil, Matthew Lujan

An Unknown Soldier

Daniel Scanlan

Wandering through the meadow

All days of the week

looking at the leaves as the wind will blow

looking at the big trees and feeling meek

Walking through flowers

Swinging on the trees

Waiting at all hours

For a love stings like bees

Winter Summer Spring and fall

Be it cloudy or burning sun

She has waited through it all

For her special someone

He may never come back at all

One thing all know is true

The Germans, they did fall

That won’t stop her from feeling blue

He didn’t return to the ship’s dock

He went to god and so will she

She looks to the Hemlock

On the count of one, two, Three

25

This I Believe

Ryan Cullen

I am not the cause of the demise. I am not the reason

race divides. I am not the reason for the riots. I am not the

reason fires burn with no one to fight them, crimes occur with

no one to stop them. I am not the reason for bankruptcy, for

mayoral scandals, for incompetent leadership. I am not the

reason for the fall of Detroit.

However, I do believe I am the reason for the

comeback. I am the reason the city’s population grows faster

than ever before. I am the reason business after business

decides to call this place home. I am the reason a school can

thrive for over a century when nothing else can. I am the

reason people believe. I am the reason I believe. This new generation that has grown around the city of

Detroit is above all else exciting. In many cases, it is those

who grow up outside the tough environment of the inner city

itself who are most motivated for change. A group who is

proud to be part of the D. A group that does not want to drive

away and never look back, but instead live in this community

for the rest of their lives. This group is where I associate

myself, and although there may not be any great reason or

calling, I feel a powerful bond towards it. I know that I cannot change all that has happened to

this city, much of it bad. It is apparent to me that dwelling on

the past is what made Detroit truly fall behind. Whether this

be human rights that divided people 50 years ago, or the unfair

characterizations of a community on the comeback today. For

Detroit to prosper, I believe in the power of myself and I

believe in the power of my classmates, my fellow preppy

Grosse Pointers and the citizens of Detroit themselves. I

believe in the power of each individual to be part of the change.

I don’t care about their background, their social status, their

religion, whether they’re gay, straight, black, purple, orange, or

white, I care about change. I believe in change. I believe in

my generation. I believe in I. I believe in Detroit.

26

Untitled, Evan Sale

Untitled, Evan Sale

27

The Unicorn

Noah Zielinski

A long time ago, when the earth was green

and there was more kinds of animals than you've ever seen,

and they run around free while the world was bein' born,

and the loveliest of all was the Unicorn.

There was green alligators and long-neck geese.

There was humpy bumpy camels and chimpanzees.

There was catsandratsandelephants, but sure as you're born

the loveliest of all was the Unicorn.

But the Lord seen some sinnin', and it caused him pain.

He says, "Stand back, I'm gonna make it rain."

He says, "Hey Brother Noah, I'll tell ya whatcha do.

Go and build me a floatin' zoo.

And you take two alligators and a couple of geese,

two humpy bumpy camels and two chimpanzees.

Take two catsandratsandelephants, but sure as you're born,

Noah, don't you forget my Unicorn."

Now Noah was there, he answered the callin'

and he finished up the ark just as the rain was fallin'.

He marched in the animals two by two,

and he called out as they went through,

"Hey Lord, I got your two alligators and your couple of geese,

your humpy bumpy camels and your chimpanzees.

Got your catsandratsandelephants - but Lord, I'm so forlorn

'cause I just don't see no Unicorn."

Ol' Noah looked out through the drivin' rain

but the Unicorns were hidin', playin' silly games.

They were kickin' and splashin' in the misty morn,

oh them silly Unicorn.

28

The the goat started goatin', and the snake started snakin',

the elephant started elephantin', and the boat started shaking'.

The mouse started squeakin', and the lion started roarin',

and everyone's abourd but the Unicorn.

I mean the green alligators and the long-neck geese,

the humpy bumpy camels and the chimpanzees.

Noah cried, "Close the door 'cause the rain is pourin' -

and we just can't wait for them Unicorn."

Then the ark started movin', and it drifted with the tide,

and the Unicorns looked up from the rock and cried.

And the water come up and sort of floated them away -

that's why you've never seen a Unicorn to this day.

You'll see a lot of alligators and a whole mess of geese.

You'll see humpy bumpy camels and lots of chimpanzees.

You'll see catsandratsandelephants, but sure as you're born

you're never gonna see no Unicorn

Tiger, Nolan Bailey

29

Bigger than Basketball

Matt Burr and Amir Mashni

As another game comes, the fans are thrilled.

They know bonds will be tested and blood will be spilled.

They file into the stands of the auxiliary court.

To see who’s the best team at this basketball sport.

These rivals despise each other with hate.

Scrap for loose balls while attacking the paint.

There is no better place to find a good rivalry

Than the legendary games between 4A and 4G.

Last year, when they were just 3G and 3A,

3G ended 3A's undefeated record one day.

And that's how this feud began its legendary start

In a game that's defined by its grit and its heart.

Let me now introduce the players on this grand stage.

First we'll start with the ballers of furious rage.

4G is equipped with tremendous guard play

in their hopes of defeating the kings of 4A.

It starts with the point guard, Mr. Marshall Neu

And Nnamdi Iroha who makes defender's ankles blue.

Then they have Jegede shooting from behind the line,

With J-Chili, Kahlil, and Elijah Miller off the pine.

Then there's the big guys, the fellas down low

Geoff Reeves in the paint, and Greg Leatherwood on the 'bow.

These guys get the wrath of the fans' hostile booing.

But when they splash the trey, then they get them all cooing.

All coached by the legendary Coach Matty Burr,

Who gets a bad rap for not finding a cure

To his teams' problems of not winning it all.

But he just tells them to just go out there and ball.

Then there's the defending champs, with all of their crowns.

When they get buckets, they fill their haters with frowns.

Led off by the captain, the legend Ryan Byrd.

Who has 7 shirts and commands his talented herd.

30

Then there's his boi, the man, Uncle Tom Lennon.

Who can pop a nasty three and then get down to defendin'.

Jared Demko and Jack Williamson attack inside and out.

With Sale, Mashni, and now Toal, they'll make opponents pout.

They are owned by the commissioner, Mr. Dan Hill.

Who, through it all, energizes his team with power and will.

He claims he's been attacked by journalism that is yellow,

but still with three banners, he has all the reason to be mellow.

In the end game, for all the marbles last year,

the star Leatherwood was tossed for all those to hear.

With his absence the 3A goats went on to take the gold.

And add another story for their legend to be told.

The teams met again, this time on 2016 Opening Day.

And 4A made a claim that they were better in every way.

They won by a lopsided score of 17-3,

then left the court with a swagger all could see.

We will soon find out what will happen to these two.

Are we in store for another classic anew?

Come out to the aux gym during lunch at 6A

To see all the action before they graduate this May.

Untitled, Joseph Dery

31

Untitled, Joseph Dery

Untitled, Joseph Dery

32

A child said what is life?

Christopher Hill

A child came up to me and said, What is life? Looking

up to me with curious eyes. I had to think before I gave the child an answer.

How would I answer a child when I was only a few years older than

him? What would I tell him?

I will tell him I guess life is God’s greatest masterpiece.

A masterpiece that no matter how hard I try I will never understand. I guess it a story about how to overcome failure to achieve success,

Fighting against adversary to get to the top.

Doing whatever it takes to get what one wants. Or maybe it a balance of happiness, sadness, rage and confusion.

Going from shining as bright as the sun to being blue as the ocean, or maybe as angry as volcanoes or whirling and misdirecting as the

winds.

It is a masterpiece that will leave you with scars as deep as the great

oceans, it will leave you with joy as bright as the sun, or maybe rage stronger

than the continuous burning of the stars. Maybe life will leave you as clouded as the nebulous reaches of space.

I wish I knew all there was about life.

I wish I could tell child what to do. The truth is I simply can’t

Life can’t be condensed down into words, books ,or teachings, Life is too big to do that.

But I will tell you child that life is whatever you make of it.

You get to choose your destiny NOBODY else.

So while you live make the most of your life, and never quit.

33

Untitled

Anonymous

Am I truly myself?

I look into the mirror and see my face

Covered in a scraggly beard that hasn’t been touched for years

No time for myself only time for others

Making others happy and satisfied

Nothing for myself

No time no happiness

Only others

Is the happiness truly mine?

I see my smile

But is it fake

Is this my own?

Or is it anothers

How do I know

How do I see

Are the thoughts mine or society’s?

Have I been lead astray

Can I trust myself

Am I truly myself?

Who am I?

I Say to You.

Daniel Toal

I say to you,

My friend, my dear friend,

You who knows people yearn for your eye.

I say to you,

Break your hardened heart,

And let it free to be just as it should.

I say to you,

Close your ears to those who share unrequested opinions,

And listen to what reigns inside.

I say to you,

No matter what you may see in life,

The loudest thing you should hear is your heart.

34

Woods, Nicholas Pez

35

A City

Colin Hayes

A city of light

A city that burned bright in the night

A city that was home to the car

A city that has been badly marred

A city on the rise

A city that again will be a prize

Untitled, Kyle Delaney

36

Inscape Poem

Dylan Manning

The puck drops and a swarm of bodies descend into the scrum,

I breathe heavily, patiently waiting for the chance of a lifetime

The pass comes, ever so smoothly sliding across the frozen ice

I accept the pass ever so gracefully, brushing past an opposed

player

Staring at the net, I begin to panic when I feel my heart

rushing and pumping.

At long last, I am given my moment.

To keep my heart ablaze and sprits high,

Until the very the moment, when the whistle cries.

Pond (Backyard) Season

Tom Lennon

As the temperature slowly decreases,

Our excitement for backyard hockey rapidly increases

Show up promptly at seven for a game at eight

Tape your stick and lace up your skates

Tally warm-up shots and test out your blades

Pass, shoot, and play defense- a true jack of all trades

Hot chocolate during intermission to soften the cold

Ding! Ding! The puck has hit the post

Overtime winner after a competitive game, a celebration would

be bold

Ding! Ding! Now it’s time to boast

Bodies are flying, and bodies are freezing

Boy oh boy, it’s pond (backyard) season

37

Modernism Poem

John O’Connell

The deep red pedal of the rose,

Reminds of the life I should have chose.

The dark green of the leaf,

Reminds me of my overwhelming grief.

The melancholy brown of the dirt,

Reminds me of my endless hurt.

The bright blue of the sky,

Reminds me that I still can try.

Drama, Brent Wilkerson

38

THE SEED

Billy Zimmer

Love is like a seed,

If the seed is taken care of properly, it will sprout

but if it is treated poorly, it will begin to die.

The seed will begin to grow to hit its paramount height if it is

taken care of

if it is forgotten about or mishandled it will lose its life and will

never come back,

but we can always buy a second seed,

just remember what you learned from the first.

Macro Pomegranate, Jacob Cafeo

39

Building Blocks, Konstantin Olsen

Harmony

Ben Godfrey

Watching the news,

Bad stuff is going on,

We have to change.

People so convicted of their own opinions,

Not even considering others.

We need not hate, but love each other,

To solve our own problems.

By coming together,

There are consequences.

Pride and competition are lost,

And so is time and money.

Nature comes together all the time.

But why can’t we?

Because it's easier to Fight than live in harmony.

40

I hear U of D singing

Bishara Randolph

I hear U of D singing, the different sounds I hear,

The humming of Mr. Gumbel as he gives out jugs in the new

wing,

The beat of the basketballs hitting gym floor during

intramurals,

The melody of Chandler, as he gives homeroom

announcements,

The rhythm of schools bells, ringing every forty-five minutes,

Those voices of the fellow students, as they say the prayer for

generosity,

The murmur in the lunchroom, as students gossip and eat,

The buzz of the band, as go to class,

As I go through my day at U of D, I hear many different sounds

but only one song.

Detroit is Paradise, Cedric Mutebi

41

Goo, Kyle Delaney

Overthinking

Ryan Dolson

While walking home after work I came upon some writing on a

wall,

someone had painted the words “overthinking” standing

straight and tall.

Although most people would walk past without thinking much of

it,

but I found myself deep in thought and knew I couldn’t quit.

Was the writing posing a question? Or was it just a riddle?

Whatever this writing was it played me like a fiddle.

Was “overthinking” the answer? Was this just simple graffiti?

I stood at that spot for some time, wondering if there was

something I couldn’t see?

That is, until a man walked up and said “Makes sense to me”.

42

There’s Beauty in the Struggle

Luciano Marcon

This time of life is great

I have made many friends

And I hope that this time never ends.

However, there is something that I hate

Because I will soon enter a new chapter of my life.

Expectations. Expectations.

I am supposed to find myself and make a difference in the

world

But all the horrible choices make me want to hurl.

I turn to elders, who should know better, looking for advice

And I find someone as clueless as myself.

Decisions. Decisions.

I am frustrated because I’ve gotten vague answers,

so I am trying to avoid mistakes like a skilled dancer.

Choices. Choices.

Although I am lost and confused,

I know everything will be alright because

I’ve got family, friends, and a roof over my head.

This hurried attempt at a poem must seem like I won’t get to

the point,

So I’ll do something I’m not good at: paint.

Imagine you’re at an intersection,

And you don’t know where to go.

Your passengers won’t stop giving interjections.

You are trapped in headlights like a doe.

You should get to your destination one way or the other,

so why do you feel afraid?

You are mature now and don’t need your hand held by your

mother,

and you know a lot.

I guess the reason you are confused

Is because you don’t know all the answers.

You blindly make a choice and hope for the best.

You’re a knowitall

that doesn’t know enough.

That isn’t the answer to your questions,

But it is the rest.

43

The Reliable Friends

Neil Jain

This is the story of two friends

who had each other ‘til the end.

Even in times of great discord

the two had weathered them out with comfort

At the end of one day,

one friend said in a tone of distress,

“I don’t know how much more I can take.

Life has been dealing me great stress.”

In a kind tone of inspiration,

the other friend responded,

“If you ever need me for a conversation,

just call me, and we’ll have further bonded.”

Following their meaningful talk,

the one said in great appreciation,

“I felt like I was in a gridlock,

but thanks to you, I feel some consolation.”

The two remained friends still today.

They for the most part feel okay.

But whenever one feels in dismay,

The other is there during night and day.

44

The Courtyard, Nicholas Pez

Estate, Nicholas Pez

45

Untitled

Quintin Banks

You constantly fill me with your unwanted pills as I try to fulfill

each and every part of your detailed will. Constantly failing due

to you extreme expectations hailing over me.

But the things you don't see is what truly hunts me. The cutting

and screaming I have to keep to myself, because of the fear

you will send me away and I'll become a distant memory on the

shelf.

The knife became my friend, the one I was talking to at night.

When my lights were on but not at at all bright.

Quietly saying to me it will be over quickly, this thing between

you and me. But I know you’ll come back to visit me again,

you’ll see. Four months clean was all I could reach, before my

friend pulled one again on my leash.

Weeks after weeks past and healing was all I seeked. But the

pain kept coming making me weak. To the knife I lost this

game of hide and go seek.

But that was just the start of my end, this is when the worst

started to begin. Constantly pealing away at my skin. It was

your beatings in the end that would always win.

For every mistake the tears would fall and with every move you

would bruise it all. My mind confused and healing slow, the

childish happiness I would soon outgrow.

With brief moments of joy and long episodes of pain, the blood

on my bed became a frequent stain. Look at the boy that you

have “raised”. Damaged and respectful because that was what

he deserved. The pain you inflicted he carried with, throughout

his childhood and the boy you knew becoming a urban myth.

When he got bad, afraid to turn to all, except his friend inside

the drawer.

46

Untitled, Jonathan Lesinski

Maui Coast, Ian Wilson

47

Emmett Till Infinity

Wes Matthews

Body disfigured.

Out of place. Barbed wire around the neck.

Eyes gouged out. One shot, or two,

inhaled by soft tissue.

14. without tears or

enough for a river.

Killers boast

“I killed him”

“I thought of killing him”

“I like coloreds…in their place”

Open casket…

Open murder.

America’s history whistles

he’s never dead, but repeating

the image playing again and

again in a textbook or the news

And…

Maybe that’s just how it is

Maybe

what’s black never forgets

what’s broken

Like a twisted system

Time-travelling Titubas

which witch hunts men,

convicts felons of melanin,

sells heroin to middle

class Americans

Stainless souls tarnish

under the weight of those

wagging fingers

while banners declaring:

Black LIVES Matter

48

tell a truth to everyone

who already knew

the value of souls

donning yesterday’s targets

for today’s bullet practice

whether a brick in a waterlogged

mouth or a shattered windpipe

an open casket or ashes to wind

only fools repeat themselves

twice and America

keeps stuttering

MLK, Brent Wilkerson

49

Forget

Anonymous

Learn, study, study, test,

Forget.

Learn, study, study, test,

Forget.

I passed the test, I got the grade.

I guess I know.

What do I know?

Numbers, letters, graphs, words….

Forget.

Maui Coastline, Ian Wilson

50

I Can't Disclose This

Matt Lujan

When you doubt yourself

My spirit is saddened

You leave your beauty dismissed

And my heart blackened

You say you're not special

And never will be

But I see a heroine

In the bottom of your tea

And the way your eyes shine

And how you smile with jubilee

Yes, this stupid heart of mine

Still beats for you, ______

Myself

Andrew Bukowinski

I’m always alone.

I keep to myself because I choose to.

I choose to be the kid in the corner.

I choose to be picked last.

Then there is always someone who tried to get me to be more

open.

That tried to help me out of my hole.

To participate and at least show that I would rather be there

then somewhere alone.

Sometimes I think silence the most serene thing that you can

experience.

But experiencing life is being around people.

People are real things that have emotion.

Spiritual and physical.

Who understands you better than someone who has

experienced the same things?

Understanding is a very serious trait that can form other traits

such as trust.

And once you gain someone's trust you are in!

You can be that person that they seek for help to.

You can change their life.

You can help them be happy.

And happiness is the key to a fulfilling life.

51

Raging Man

Ryan Reid

Rage can only seed through anger

No more, no less

Hatred has been brought before us

Nothing but grit teeth and boiled blood

Shown to others but wanted to break

He can only stand and wait

As others pass him by

Wanted to destroy the world but did nothing at all

Laughing, smiling and joking around

Punching kicking, and smashing walls

Nobody can fix it all

But everything can be changed one by one

Untitled, Jonathan Lesinski

52

The Journal of Devin Malone

Merrick Means

Watching, waiting, praying for hope as war wages forward

My life will soon flash before my eyes

When will I be home to hear my daughters cry

I feel as if I'm tortured, tied up to a pole

A blind mouth will throw my soul into a deep dark hole

But I'm growing, growing, growing stronger

After my hear falls then no longer

Remaining in the midst of battle

Dreaming of my far, tending the cattle

As I look down at the ashes in my hands

I hear people screaming

Now the fabric of time has been tore

Dreaming of my beautiful daughter I adore

Now I'm home

This is the journal of Devin Malone

NYC Skyline, Ian Wilson

53

I Wanna Get Better

Christopher Wilson

This is a tale about an extraordinary person named

Henry. Henry was the nicest person you would ever meet,

except he was different from other people. Sure we’re all

different, but Henry was a special kind of different. When he

was 9, he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. This news

changed his life forever, and he soon became very distant from

people. He had this luscious brown hair that could travel

through millions of galaxies, but then he cut it all off and dyed

it blonde then dyed the ends pink. Everybody thought he was

weird and decided to keep their distance from him and to

ignore him for the rest of their school life. Not I, though. I

choose to get to know the pink haired child who only ate red

and green skittles. Before I could talk to him, I needed to make

a plan. If what people are saying about him is true, I would

have to gently approach him and make small talk. After 2 hours

of planning, I decided to finally talk to him, but what would I

say?

“Hi I’m Ethan. I suffer from severe depression and find

you cute, but you’re so mysterious.” I knew I couldn't say that,

so I decided to give him some skittles. This when I found a

mysterious discovery.

He pours all the skittles on the table with his blondish

pink hair in his face and separates them all by color. He eats all

the red and green skittles then throws the rest on the floor.

“What are you doing Henry? Was it something that I

did?” I reply sadly.

“No, it’s just that any color other than red or green is

poison.” He replies and smiles at me.

I pick the skittles off the floor and he helps me, at this

moment our hands touch, and I feel something deep inside of

me light up inside. His unevenly cut hair is a blessing in

disguise, and his pink ends scream, “date me.”

The bell rings, marking 8th period, and I quickly pick up

the remaining skittles and throw them in the garbage. He is

wearing a bright pink sweater and black pumas, and he walks

54

with confidence to his locker. I quickly follow him, trying to be

less awkward as possible but in the end he catches on and

decides to walk faster. It is now a relay race to see who gets to

his locker first. We’re both laughing now running to his locker

that feels like it is a mile away. People talk and whisper as we

run down the narrow hallways full of drama and small talk.

They gawk their pale ghostly eyes and shine their white teeth

not knowing that we simply don’t care. We arrive at his locker

out of breath and sweaty, and his short hair covers his

eyebrows. He stares down at his feet and starts to slightly tap

the heel on the ground. The heel makes this slight sound that

can calm a crying baby. He looks up at me and puts his hair

behind his ear and gives me his number. He runs out the school

without looking back, and all I can think about his that pink

hair.

I walk outside because my dad is constantly texting me

saying, “Why the hell aren’t you outside?”

“When we get home that’s two punches” he yells at me.

I quietly whimper on the backseat dreading the car ride home

because I know that he isn’t just going to hit me twice. He's

going to keep going.

We arrive at exactly 3:30 pm, and the cool autumn wind

brushes against my face. I look down at my Sperrys knowing

that he could sense my fear, and the knowledge of my fear

made him stronger. He grabs my arms and drags me into the

house. I cry in a muffled voice, “I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen

again. You don’t have to do this.” He slaps me, and I fall on the

lamp. My antidepressants roll off the table and onto the floor. I

pick them all up in a scattered pattern and quickly run to my

room before my father can lay another finger on me. I cry on

my floor and look at a picture of my mom and dad before the

divorce. I used to blame myself for their divorce until I realized

he was the problem. My mother left my father because he was

an alcoholic psychopath who was too arrogant to ask for help.

Hours pass, and I still lay on the floor, neglecting my

studies and homework only to hear a peculiar knock on my

window. I look outside to see Henry, and so many questions

55

run through my mind. I quickly run to the door and lock it, just

in case my father tries to apologize for his idiotic and

animalistic manner. I grab my jacket and hop out the window.

Henry is wearing a camouflage army jacket that is too big for

him with a light brown boot. We run as far away from my house

until we’re in a woodland area. Trees surround us and the moon

shines its beautiful light on Henry’s face. He pulls out a

cigarette from his pocket and I turn away.

“Cancer is a thing you know?” I say to Henry as he

searches for a light.

He walks closer to me and unbuttons my bow tie and

says, “Overthinking is a thing you know?” He smiles and drops

his lighter. I pick it up and the color of it is red.

“Are you just going to leave a guy hanging?” he says.

My fragile pale fingers don’t have enough strength to get the

lighter to work, but for once the universe is on my side and the

lighter works. I put the lighter back in his pocket and walk

towards flashing signs, and he follows.

We eventually end up at a 7/11, and we go inside to get

drinks. He gets a Pepsi Slurpee mixed with Mountain Dew and

slides numerous bags of Cheese Puffs in his jacket. Not only is

he an odd one, but he's a shoplifter too!

“Put it back, Henry, or I’ll tell the clerk!” I whisper to

him. He then slips a pack of cigarettes in my pocket and walks

out the store. I pay for the Slurpee and hurry out the store as

well.

“Are you crazy? We both could have gotten arrested!” I

holler at him.

“I technically am crazy Mr. Bow Tie,” he replies. I giggle

and start to walk back home until suddenly Henry throws his

Slurpee and starts running towards the highway.

I run after him, his short blondish pink hair pushes back

with every steps he takes. I barely catch up to him. Before I

can grab his arm, he stands on a bridge ready to jump. My

throat swells up and words cannot even come out.

“THE SHADOW KEEPS FOLLOWING ME!” he yells at me.

56

“Please calm down, I can make the shadow go away,” I

reply in a soothing mother’s voice.

I take baby steps over to him and gently grab his hips to

get him down. We lay on the bridge, and I stroke his hair as he

holds my arm. We walk to my house, and he sneaks in through

my window, too. He unzips his coat, and all the Cheese Puffs

that he stole flop down on my floor. I laugh and hear my father

coming towards my door, and I quickly hide Henry in my closet.

I open the door and there he is holding a pizza. I grab the

pizza, slam the door and lock it.

It’s 1:00 am and my crush is at my house, and we’re

eating pizza and stolen snacks. What could better than this?

Henry comes out the closet and lays in my bed while feeding

each other pizza. We clean our hands and just hold each other.

“I’m not going to see you for a while Ethan,” he

whispers in my ear.

“Why? I thought we were getting somewhere!” I blurt

out.

He replies, “In order to love you, I need to get better

because I truly love you.”

He lifts his head from my shoulder and kisses me.

Maybe we all have to get better.

57

Summer

Calvin Adam

Swimming in Lake St. Clair

We would go anywhere

From the DYC to Algonac

Always getting sidetracked

From Cedar Pointe to Metro beach

There was no where we couldn’t reach

Fishing all day

Until we had to go away

Staying up all night

Until we saw the daylight

Running up and down the docks

And not even wearing socks

Splinters in my feet

All in the summer’s heat

Untitled, Calvin Adam

58

Untitled

Keagan Flynn

There's a poem

In the wind,

In his hollow home

the poet spinned.

It told the story

Of the boy who cried wolf,

The one who was scared,

The one who never dared.

Smart, they called him,

But filled to the very brim

With sadness and nervousness,

It tore him apart.

He doubted himself

And his place in his art;

He took away his credit,

Displaced his heart.

Convinced finally

That he had found love,

He tore apart the notes

Written by his true dove.

The questions they ask

He hears but can't answer.

He trembles all night.

Fear grows like a cancer.

Afraid to step out

Into the honest abyss

Where people find shelter

As they all take risks.

He wrote the world a poem,

the world he loved dearly,

Not to tell it anything

But to set his mind clearly.

Judgment, he expects

59

But truth is all he ejects

And in his mind where he does all wrong

It truthfully composes into a beautiful song

That he can't see but will always be

And that’s the irony of what it means to be me.

I go on with tender hopes.

A loving soul

I seek to grow.

Can I do it? I do not know,

But I will not be dragged

By my mind's undertow.

There's a fright

Lying in everyone's mind,

They rethink things

And rewrite their own lines,

But I'm not afraid

To say my truth,

Faults and all,

From my disdainful youth.

The white haired girl

That I came to love

Put an arrow through me,

It was the most powerful shove.

I mourned,

I mourned,

I mourned.

I wrote and cried

About how I thought I had died,

But in fact it was birth

And I slowly found Earth.

I looked at the trees,

The skies,

The water,

The wind,

The people,

60

The lives,

Then I shuddered.

Here I was,

Alive at last,

But what it already done?

Why so fast?

I distracted myself

In drugs and delusions,

Sacrificing reality

For demanding illusions.

When I finally saw

What could be real

I jumped into it fast,

I thought it was a steal.

What I took

Was clearly not life,

instead I found a tablet

telling me of my strife.

"You shall not take,

You shall not think,

You shall not push

This mind to the brink."

Here I must be

To set myself free,

away from the nervousness,

C'est la vie.

This is courage.

Not to be a knight

Putting on shining armor,

But to take it all off

Still fight

And to know you're a ship

That now rests in a safer harbor.

Abdullah, Adam 23

Adam, Calvin 57

Andreu, Frankie 21

Apap, Teddy 3

Banks, Quintin 45

Bowker, Luke 11

Bukowinski, Andrew 17, 50

Burr, Matt 29

Cafeo, Jacob 38

Campana, Anthony 12

Cataldi, Paul 1

Chekal, Peter 3

Cullen, Ryan 25

Delaney, Kyle 35, 41

Denomme, Maxim 2

Devy, Joseph 30, 31

Dolson, Ryan 41

Donovan, Michael 9

Flynn, Keagan 58

Godfrey, Ben 39

Guething, Daniel 6

Hayes, Colin 35

Hill, Chris 32

Jack Condit 11, 12, 13

Jain, Neil 43

Klingler, Charlie 23

Lennon, Tom 36

Lesinski, Jonathan 46, 51

Lujan, Matt 1, 4, 7, 15, 18,

24, 50

Manning, Dylan 36

Marcon, Luciano 42

Mashni, Amir 29

Matthews, Wes 47

Means, Merrick 52

Mutebi, Cedric 40

O’Connell, John 5, 20, 37

Olsen, Konstantin 39

Paletta, Lucca 2

Pederson, William 33

Peters, Christian 8

Pez, Nicholas 13, 19, 34, 44

Piepszowski, Joshua 49

Randolph, Bishara 40

Reid, Ryan 51

Roarty, Brendan 8

Russ, Gordon 22

Sale, Evan 26

Scanlan, Daniel 24

Toal, Daniel 18, 33

Wilkerson, Brent 48

Wilson, Christopher 53

Wilson, Ian 14, 46, 49, 52

Zielinski, Noah 27, 28

Zimmer, Billy 38

University of Detroit Jesuit

High School and Academy

2015 - 2016